


Come All This Way (To Hold Your Hand)

by Salmonellagogo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Undercover as a Couple, a dash of angst, mention of past hank/gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmonellagogo/pseuds/Salmonellagogo
Summary: Gavin joined an undercover mission with RK900 as his partner. What started as an awful thing for Gavin quickly became... something else.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 4
Kudos: 106
Collections: Reed900 Reverse Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More tags will be added as the story moves forward. If I forget anything, please let me know!
> 
> This fic is part of Reed900 Reverse Bang. I'm working with Bones who provided me a super fabulous art to base this fic on. Please visit their twitter @MechanicalBones and leave a comment or retweet there! Big thanks to the mods for organizing this!

RK900’s first day at the precinct was nothing remarkable. 

Gavin clocked in at eight forty five and went through a slow day of slogging through backlogged paperworks, hunched in front of his terminal. He took his lunch at his table, a simple affair of last night’s fried rice and sliced fruits. Tina was being a nuisance, leaning an elbow over the top of his chair and stealing his fruits, when an android came into the bullpen. 

Gavin saw a glimpse of broad shoulders, brown hair, and a face that bore a striking resemblance to their resident RK800 android. 

Behind Gavin, Tina whistled. 

He took his eyes off the android when the door to Fowler’s fishbowl of an office closed behind that glaring RK900 printed on the back of a black and white jacket. New recruits had nothing to do with Gavin and the precinct had seen more android recruits about one month after the revolution. RK900 was not special. 

And fuck it, but he knew when a war’s been lost and if he wanted to see himself still holding on to his job, he needed to do it better than any fucking tin cans could. He wouldn’t waste his time worrying about new android recruits.

When he clocked out at five, the circulating rumor told of RK900 passing the detective test with flying color. 

Gavin refused the known anti-android, Officer Johnson’s betting pool on how long this tin can would last with only one cursed word, a feat, considering his mood and got on his motorcycle to leave for the day. 

There was no need to talk to the new android, so Gavin didn’t. 

He kept his head down and his distance. RK900–or Nines, as Tina informed him—was attached as the third wheel to Anderson and Connor’s dynamic duo. They shared the same corner at the precinct, one washed out lieutenant and two android boy-toys. The gossips around the precinct were on the consensus that Anderson was definitely fucking Connor, and jury’s still out about the other tin can. 

Gavin rolled his eyes and dismissed them all. 

One week in, when he finally had to talk to RK900, it’s not by choice. 

Fowler pulled him into an undercover operation that involved too many people Gavin would prefer not to work with—chief among all, Connor goddamn Anderson. But someone like him, who didn’t have a lifelong friendship to fall back on with the Captain like certain someone... couldn’t just mouth off to the man and still hoped to get the promotion he’d set his eyes on ever since he stepped into this precinct within this century. 

And so, with gritted teeth, Gavin walked into the meeting room. 

“Detective Reed,” RK900 said as he handed a tablet to Gavin. His voice was a rumbling bass, a whole octave lower than Connor’s. 

Standing face to face with the android for the first time, Gavin took stock of the way RK900 differed from Connor. He was taller, with ice-cold blue eyes instead of peaceful brown and cheekbones that could cut glass. Like Connor though, he was perfect because Cyberlife made him to be. The beautiful architecture of his face was something that someone spent hours upon hours of work on. 

Gavin, with the twinge at the base of his neck from the week he had spent at his terminal and the scars that stiffened his nose when he scrunched it, accepted the tablet and averted his eyes.

Later, it turned out that Gavin should have railed against Fowler after all, said his refusal to work with androids, and slammed his fists on Fowler’s desk for good measure. Because this was ridiculous. 

Gavin had lived a life. He understood Fowler tapped him for undercover works because he knew how to look the part. He was born on the wrong part of Detroit, and twenty years ago, his stupid teenaged ass had sat in this very precinct at the other side of the interrogation table and Fowler _remembered_. He knew crime inside and out. Any other time, he’d do it, no question asked to get closer to that promotion. 

This time, Gavin wished he had nothing to do with any of it. 

“Hank and Connor will be stationed here as back-ups,” Detective Collins said as he tapped a spot on the table, over a projected image of a map of Detroit. “Reed and RK900, you two will be our point men.”

Gavin grimaced. He could feel RK900’s eyes on him—the room’s eyes on him, as if they were waiting for something. Fuck it. He ignored them all with a categorical stubbornness.

If they wanted to see an outburst, he would have to disappoint. 

-

Gavin couldn’t ignore RK900 forever. That would be idiotic... and dangerous when they needed to go undercover. 

He donned the clothes that Tina and he had put together earlier that day. A pair of leather pants that clung snugly on him and he knew was making his ass look fantastic, a shirt that’s just tight enough to hint at his fit body, a vintage jacket and a pair of combat boots that gave him an edge. He was hot. Rich. Dangerous. 

And more importantly, he looked like someone who would have an android arm-candy slash bodyguard accompanying him as he entered one of Detroit’s premier VIP clubs. An android bodyguard who had no right to look as good as he did in a haphazardly buttoned white shirt and leather harnesses peeking out from the open front, complete with a collar that probably sent some kind of message—to let people know he was _owned_. 

Gavin wondered whose perverted idea was that. 

He didn’t nurse that line of thought for long. In no time at all, their self driving muscle car had stopped in front of Paradise. The place was within sight of the glitzy high-rise condos of downtown Detroit, housed within an old-style theatre that once saw popularity in the forties. The original brickworks were still there, now adorned by retro-looking marquee with flashing bulbs that changed colors every few seconds. The building itself was a cultural treasure and spoke of what kind of place the club was. 

The game was on the moment Gavin stepped out of the car, trusting the automatic valet parking system to take care of the car for them. 

Gavin pushed the double door and followed the siren call of pulsing music to reach the inner belly of the place. Club securities barely glanced at them before admitting them, and for an establishment that required a hefty admittance, that more than anything else, told Gavin they definitely looked their parts. 

Inside, he took a moment to take it all in. Paradise was in full-swing. Close to midnight, the Friday night crowds filled the place to the brim. And what a place it was. The sloping floor had been leveled out, the seats removed, to make way for a dance floor that took nearly the entire first level. A long bar was set along the side of the room. The rest of the buildings looked the same as it must have been in the days of old. High ceilings covered in fabric and wood accent, glittering chandeliers along with the more modern strobe lights that flashed over the crowd wildly. 

“Detective.” Gavin flinched at the unexpected contact, feeling keenly the line of heat at his back where RK900 pressed himself closer Gavin to be heard, the dampness of his artificial breath over Gavin’s ear as he leaned down to meet Gavin’s height. “There.”

Off to the right of the bar was a set of carpeted stairs that led to the second floor, a mezzanine that used to be the theater balcony level. It overlooked the dance floor and had its own full bar and a cluster of lounge seatings. RK900 nudged Gavin toward it.

Gavin gritted his teeth. From the look of things, RK900 definitely had no problem getting into character tonight. 

“It’s Marc,” Gavin said tightly. “Fuckin’ keep that straight.”

“Of course.”

Gavin spared RK900 a glance and noted the severe line of his lips, the perfect shape of his cupid’s bow. 

“Your resting bitchface will give us away,” he muttered. 

“If anything would give us away, it would be because you look like you’d rather be anywhere but here.” RK900 squeezed Gavin’s waist, and after a beat, brought himself even closer to Gavin. 

Gavin forced himself not to react violently, contained all his desire to lash out in a smile that showed too much teeth. That, at least, fit this charade and Gavin thought he deserved an Oscar when he melted against RK900 and slotted his body more firmly to the android’s side. 

“Shut up,” he said. 

In the time that they spent together, Gavin learned RK900 could dish out as much as he was given if Gavin so much as opened his mouth to grumble. It made for some interesting back and forth. 

As it got closer to one in the morning, Gavin got steadily more relaxed with each drink he finished. 

“Your blood alcohol content is close to what is legally considered as intoxicated,” came the android’s unwanted opinion, spoken against the skin of Gavin’s temple, one of his hands still secure around Gavin’s waist. 

“Mmm. You know. This is the first lesson, Tin Can. You gotta look the part when you’re in this place,” Gavin said. He handed his empty drink to RK900 who was true to his charade and readily accepted it before placing the glass on the bar table, then Gavin raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention again, signaling for another one of the same. 

They were on the second floor with Gavin seated by the bar and RK900 standing beside him, one of his arms looped around Gavin’s waist. The second level was not as crowded as the first floor. To get up there, they needed to pay the cover charges and get the VIP passes. From a business standpoint, it was pretty fucking lucrative. And the drink menu was better than what Gavin imagined served down there. 

“‘Sides,” Gavin continued. “This is why you’re here. To watch my back. Fuck, you better do a good job at it.”

“I will try not to let them kill you,” RK900 said drily. 

Despite himself, Gavin snorted. Christ. But maybe—maybe Gavin did not hate RK900 as much as he did Connor. At least this one was not so bad. Bitchy. But Gavin would take that any day over someone who would bend over backward, pleasing everyone. 

Three drinks Gavin should have deferred his opinion for sober Gavin though, and right on cue of that thought, the bartender was back with his drink. RK900 settled back against Gavin after receiving the drink from the bartender for him. He said nothing as Gavin sipped it.

Gavin could feel RK900’s thumb drawing circle against his side, just underneath his ribs. He wasn’t ticklish, yet the touch still did something to him. He’s shivered a little, body temperature rising even though the air conditioner was excellent up here. RK900 perfectly mimicked the animal warmth of a human. Under the club’s ambient lighting and the music a little less-deafening on the second floor, Gavin could have said he was... comfortable. 

Yeah, right. 

They were here to be seen and to see. Their objective, Gavin decided, was achieved already. If only because RK900 was the kind of pretty that turned heads and he noticed that they’d received looks the moment they parked themselves at the bar. 

It’s time to end the night already.

Gavin shifted and subtly turned the small hearing device inside his ear canal on by putting pressure on the back of his ear. 

“Gavin?” And there came Hank’s voice, the deep, guttural sound that belonged to a heavy smoker. He sounded a little out of breath, as if he’d been doing something more strenuous than just wasting his time in a car with Connor. 

Gavin didn’t reply immediately, fingers tightening on the highball glass. Hearing Hank’s voice like that disturbed something inside him he’d shoved to a dusty corner, untouched for years. And for an unfathomable reason, it’s ‘Gavin’ again recently instead of ‘Reed’ after a long, long time. 

Four drinks Gavin thought this was a little unfair. Maybe, RK900 was right after all, he’s intoxicated, compromised. 

The android in question was giving him an odd look with that blue eyes rimmed by long eyelashes that should be girly. But his mouth stayed firmly shut. His LED cycled a brief yellow before pulsing back to a steady blue. 

“Reed, is everything okay?” Hank said.

And there it was, back to Reed again. 

“We’re done here,” Gavin gritted out. “Meet you in twenty.”

Gavin let the weird moment pass, and RK900 was smart enough to leave it.

-

The next day, Gavin clocked in at two in the afternoon. His head was clear. A minor blessing, considering he had only gotten little sleep after coming back to his apartment at nearly six in the morning. 

Still, the bags under his eyes spoke for themselves and he fortified himself with a good coffee from the popular cop hang out a few buildings away from the precinct. He didn’t think he could stomach the break room’s black swill that day. 

He nearly spilled the coffee when he found the spot across from his terminal was occupied by a familiar face. 

Gavin carefully placed the paper cup on top of his desk and then crossed his arms. 

RK900 looked up even as he continued to interface with the terminal in front of him, the skin of his hand retracting to reveal white plastic. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gavin said. He was never one to beat around the bush, and he definitely wouldn’t start now.

RK900 tilted his head. “This terminal has been empty since Officer Johnson’s retirement. I was assigned to it this morning.”

Gavin repressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. For the better part of the month of RK900 being a member of the police force, he’d been using one of the shared terminals that peppered the precinct, usually there for the benefit of their patrol cops whose workstations were their cop cars, but might occasionally needed to file paperworks. 

Of course. 

Gavin’s life would be too easy if he didn’t have to interact with the android again after last night, their ongoing operation notwithstanding. 

Making a spectacle at the start of his shift, while tempting, was probably a bad idea. He didn’t look forward to adding yet another disciplinary record to his long list of offenses. Besides, Gavin honestly was too fucking tired for any of this. So he did the only advisable thing in this situation. He sat in front of his own terminal and started his workday. 

Thankfully, there were a ton of things to finish and file, and thus, he had a valid excuse to ignore RK900’s existence. 

It went well, right until Tina dropped by at the end of her shift. She was just getting back from patrol and while Gavin truly loved her as a friend, sometimes she could be such a pain in the ass. 

“Hey, Nines. Didn’t expect you to be the one who gotta put up with seeing this sour face day in, day out.” Tina propped her elbow at the top of Gavin’s chair. “How is it? Is he treating you good?”

RK900 directed his eyes to a spot beyond Gavin's shoulder where Tina was. "Detective Reed and I have not done bodily harm to each other in the course of our time together. I would say this is markedly better than my initial expectation." 

Fucking hell. 

Tina chuckled. "That's my boy," she cooed, leaning over to pat Gavin's cheek. "All bark and rarely bite." 

“Go the fuck away, Tina.” Gavin swatted Tina's hand off his face. 

"Oooh. Someone is in a foul mood. Scary," she said in a sing-song, before cheerily addressing RK900 again, "A tip, Nines. Get something sweet in him and he'll be much nicer to you." 

Then, after imparting that unsolicited wisdom, Tina walked away to head to the locker room with a jaunty wave. 

"Do you need your blood sugar level replenished, Detective?" 

Gavin narrowed his eyes at RK900. He could feel the beginning of a tension headache he'd missed all morning pulling at the base of his neck. 

"I don't need you to feed me. In fact, don't fucking talk to me at all unless it's important," Gavin said testily. 

He decided it's time for his break. He got up and walked away from his desk—and RK900–with little fanfare, going out to the back alley of the station. It was empty when Gavin needed it to be for once. He wanted to smoke in peace—away from the prying eyes of the busybodies in the precinct, waiting to see him fucking up…, away from RK900’s sharp gaze. 

He was leaning back against the bricks when he realized RK900 had followed him out. So much for the so-called peace. He grimaced. 

For someone so unnecessarily tall, RK900 moved like a goddamn ghost. 

Gavin’s patience frayed off on the android’s approach. 

“Get lost,” he snarled. 

“This is a public space and androids have the same privilege in the eyes of the law as humans these days. I have as much right to be here as you,” RK900 said. His delivery was as flat as his expression. 

Gavin gritted his teeth. “I want to be alone.”

“We can’t have an effective working relationship if you continue to show hostility towards me.”

“Fucking leave me alone.”

It didn’t work. Gavin didn’t think that it would. He finally looked at RK900 then, taking in the sculpted jaw, the straight line of his nose. He had punched Connor once and had firsthand experience in knowing how hard the android’s chassis was. Was it worth fracturing his knuckles again to punch this one in the face?

Before Gavin could finish weighing the pro and con, RK900 spoke again, “Our mission is ongoing. It would be advisable to maintain a good relationship.”

“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t advisable for doing my job. That’s a start if you want to get in my good book.”

“Understood.” RK900 tilted his head slightly. His LED spun a cycle of yellow. 

“And don’t fucking do that.”

“Do what?”

“Scanning me, or whatever shit you're calling it.” Gavin’s hands dug into his jeans’ pocket for a pack of cigarettes. For a moment, they stood in silence while Gavin lit one and took a long drag. 

“Your stress level showed improvement after inhaling that.”

Gavin shoved his lighter back into his pocket. “You’re my goddamn source of stress,” he said. “And I told you to stop that.”

“I can’t,” RK900 replied coolly. “It would be akin to telling a human to stop breathing.”

Gavin gave the android a stink eye. He didn’t believe RK900, not for a second—but he knew fuck all about androids after years of deliberately not following any news, or updates about androids development. Even back when Eli had still been—ugh. He wasn’t going to think about Eli. 

“Then don’t tell me about it. It’s creepy as fuck.”

There was a beat of silence after Gavin’s words, RK900’s cool blue eyes fixed on him. Then RK900 said, “Okay.”

An impasse of sort passed between them. Gavin sucked the butt of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke twice, letting the minutes slide away between them. RK900 looked like he could stay there all day, standing on attention with both hands behind his back and broad shoulders blocking the view of the alley. 

This was an android built for the express purpose of intimidation. 

And despite himself, Gavin couldn’t take his eyes off RK900’s face. His pink lips, of all things, the curve of his cupid’s bow. Gavin’s brain veered off like a slippery slope, to the android’s warmth he’d experienced last night, the feel of those lips as they touched the shell of Gavin’s ear. 

Gavin breathed out a plume of smoke.

“C’mere,” he said. The words came out even before Gavin’s higher processes caught up with the intention behind it.

RK900 looked at him curiously, but after a moment, he complied, taking a couple of steps to close his distance with Gavin. 

Gavin snuffed his cigarette on the bricks of the building with a categorical disregard of someone who had done that countless times and discarded it. 

“Kiss me,” Gavin said, because he was always the one to finish what he started. A daredevil smirk graced his lips even as his brain told him how out of his mind he sounded. 

He got his first visible emotional reaction out of the android since the moment he fucking crashed Gavin’s smoke break. His mouth parted slightly in surprise. 

“I don’t see why—”

“Oh, come on,” Gavin interrupted him. “We’re going to do this eventually. You had me practically in your arms all night. The least I can do, is to make sure you know how, before we need to do this in front of other people.”

It was such a bullshit excuse for something Gavin knew was fueled mostly by curiosity and brain-fart. Would the android’s lips feel as real as the rest of him? Would kissing androids be something Gavin was into? A few months ago Gavin would’ve given someone a good punch for even suggesting that. 

There was a pregnant pause, in which Gavin fully expected RK900 to say no, and maybe, finally, learned to leave Gavin alone as the best course of action. 

But RK900’s, “Okay,” said firmly and clearly, was a curve-ball he didn’t anticipate. 

So now... Gavin would need to kiss RK900?

It was Gavin’s turn to stay rooted to his spot, looking up at RK900. 

No take-backs. 

Gavin closed the last few inches of the space between them. He went on his tip-toes—goddamn tall motherfucker—and brought a hand up to cup the back of RK900’s neck, tugging him down. 

It turned out he did need to teach RK900 how to kiss. 

The fleeting thought of how this could become a sexual harassment in the workplace situation crossed his mind. But even that couldn’t stop him. Not when RK900 was an active participant and holding Gavin’s shoulder as if he didn’t want him to go.


	2. Chapter 2

One week later, they were back at the club again, making it the fourth time they’d been there, and during the time span, Gavin would like to think that they were making good progress. 

He still acted like a big dick and still let RK900 cling to him like a limpet–or Nines now. Gavin guessed he could relent after the android had let Gavin fucking... kiss him.

Gavin nursed his neat Johnny Walker Blue, sipping it slowly. If he could go back in time, he’d shake his past self until some sense fell out the bottom. But it’s too late now, and he had to live with it. 

Problem was... he didn’t exactly hate kissing Nines. The stoic motherfucker had clearly never done it before. He had been clumsy at first, teeth clacking against Gavin’s, but he had also been a fast learner. By the end of it, Gavin had to run back to the bullpen without meeting Nines’ eyes, with a telltale flush that he had hoped would be chalked to the cutting wind of the season. 

It had definitely felt like a real thing. Warm and inviting. Addicting. It had felt like something that Gavin had lived without too long—he’d never kissed his one night stands and one night stands were the only sexual encounters he’d had in the past five years. That intimacy was a gateway he didn’t want to open. The fact that he blundered it with Nines was even more smarting. 

Even though he’d revised his opinions on androids somewhat after the revolution... this was still too much. 

He should’ve really said no to this operation when Fowler had asked him.

And tonight, well. 

“Need some help?” Nines asked, his long fingers touched the tips of Gavin’s where he was holding an unlit cigarette. The warmth of his body so close to Gavin’s. 

Paradise was one of the last few clubs in Detroit that allowed indoor conventional smoking, and Gavin’s nerves thanked whoever had made this decision. Liquid courage alone couldn’t prepare him for the way Nines leaned in when Gavin put the butt of his cigarette between his lips. Nines snaked a hand into Gavin’s pocket and took his lighter out, then lighted Gavin’s smoke for him. 

“Thanks,” Gavin mumbled. He took a long drag. Nicotine worked wonder in helping him find his center again like nothing else could. 

The club was a bit more crowded than usual tonight. Every second and fourth Friday of the month, the stage was occupied by a show that attracted onlookers. Gavin riveted his eyes on a guy who was suspended from the air with only one long red rope entwined around his body with complicated knots keeping him from crashing to the stage floor. Standing not far, the bondage specialist was keeping a close eye on his charge. 

They parked themselves on the second floor again tonight. But instead of the bar, Gavin had chosen to occupy one of the lounge sofas along the balcony that needed minimal charge to sit on. Hence, his top shelf alcoholism again tonight. 

When Nines put his hand under Gavin’s jacket and tapped his side with an index finger twice, he knew Nines was trying to get his attention. 

Gavin made an inquisitive sound. 

“Incoming,” Nines said in a low voice. 

Gavin followed Nines’ line of sight, and there, a mean looking guy was approaching them. Purposeful strides. Big and distinctive, with a nose permanently crooked after what seemed like multiple breaks. His fashion sense reminded Gavin strongly of Hank—ugly prints beneath a black leather jacket—that Gavin had to school his face from grimacing. 

He sat uninvited across from them, the low table serving as a divider between the two of them and the guy. Gavin made an educated guess that this guy was an enforcer who hopefully sought them out because he was biting the lure Gavin and Nines were dangling. 

Gavin raised one of his eyebrows. Time to put on a show. “Can we help you?”

The guy scoffed. “Heard you been looking to speak with Big Brother. Said you got something for him.”

“That depends,” Gavin said, giving the guy his most smarmy smile. “Who’s asking?”

“Nobody. Until you can prove what you telling our people.”

Nines squeezed Gavin’s side and the communication device in Gavin’s ear crackled to life, transmitting Nines’ voice clearly, “Gerard Browning. Thirty two years old. Two counts of assaults and battery. Has served jail time.”

Gavin thought he did a good job controlling his reaction. Hearing Nines’ sudden disembodied voice in his ear was freaky as  _ fuck.  _ Outwardly, he tilted his head a little to the side, and said, “How about you see for yourself? Show him, Rich.”

“Of course.” Nines untangled himself from Gavin, the leather belts that made up parts of his costume clinked as he stood. He dug into his pocket and placed a small packet on the table. 

Nines was still dressed as provocatively as the first day—collar and all. And Gavin didn’t have to be a mind reader to guess what crossed Browning’s mind with the way he skimmed Nines’ figure with his eyes. 

“Purest shit you can get in this kind of political climate after the android revolution,” Gavin said, noting the bastard’s gaze didn’t move to Gavin when he spoke. 

“What model are you?” Browning didn’t even look at the red ice Nines had taken out. “Are you one of those special models?”

From where he was sitting, Gavin could see the perfect cut of Nines’ jaw, the way he angled his head to better show off his collar, and his sultry smile as he replied, “I am an RK900 android. There were twenty thousands of us commissioned by the US military, but only three hundreds are active today and have deviated. Most of us choose military or police work. However, I,” at this, Nines gave Gavin a half-lidded look, “choose to work for Marc.” 

“Deviants,” Browning sneered. 

“Problem?” Gavin asked coolly. 

“Only that you believed in that shit,” Browning said snidely. 

Gavin smiled. One of the reasons why Hank and Connor, and in extension, Gavin and Nines were tapped for this case was the missing androids involved in it. Sourcing Thirium had become harder after the android revolution. The distribution of it required permits, and Cyberlife, who was still the biggest Thirium manufacturer, milked it all they could. Androids rarely needed things, but Thirium was a necessity for them. 

And to people in Browning's gang… androids were probably the next best way of getting Thirium in time of scarcity. 

“Come here, Rich.” He reached out to Nines’ wrist and tugged him down. Nines, fully in character, plopped himself to sit on Gavin’s lap, pretty as he pleased. Gavin was surprised by the weight of the android settling across his lap, but he managed to contain it and gave Browning a meaningful stare. “Careful. I didn’t hire Richard here as my arm candy.”

Browning snorted and leaned back, totally dismissive of the information with a foolish disregard of someone who clearly hadn’t gone one on one with a military android before. Browning was built like a tank and while Gavin didn’t consider himself small, this guy probably had twice his mass. Yet Gavin knew from personal experience that an android like Nines—and Connor—would take this man down easily when it came to it. 

Well, the better for them if this guy underestimated Nines. 

”We’re not here to talk about my Richard,” Gavin said as he looped his arm over Nines’ waist, securing the android on his lap. Then, he pointed to the red ice on the table with his free hand. “Take it to your boss or leave it.”

“Fine,” Browning said. He obeyed Gavin and picked up the packet of red ice. “We’ll find you if this is any good.”

Gavin smiled pleasantly. “We’ll be waiting.”

  
\---  
  


They didn’t hear from Browning the next two times they were there. Gavin didn’t worry about it too much. If the baddies suspected them, they would have been kicked out long before Gavin could finish his drink. This type of operation needed patience. And patience, while Gavin didn’t have it in spades, he had learned to live with. 

They made it back to their assigned car at nearly two in the morning. The night was another bust with no one from the other side making contact with them, while Gavin still played the waiting game and didn’t reach out. Though really, Gavin hadn’t hoped for much the moment he had seen the weather forecast earlier. Tonight wasn’t a night for things to happen. 

The beginning of a rainstorm churning right on top of Detroit was something that he would appreciate better if he were home with his cats. He wouldn’t wish to be caught under the rain. A lot of people had the same idea as him, and Paradise was quieter that night.

He tinkered with the car’s entertainment system while the self-driving car speeded them back to the precinct. He settled on a late night radio program playing songs from the 90s, the soft hum of an acoustic guitar filling the car. 

The poster child of an overcompensating car they were using was an impounded vehicle the DPD obtained from a raid. It helped drive home the image the DPD wanted them to sell. 

In the time that he spent with Nines, the silence in the car ride together had become less and less uncomfortable. Gavin was learning to take Nines’ resting bitch face as what it is, and had gradually adjusted to his presence. It helped that Nines was an android of few words. Nothing was more grating to Gavin than someone who didn’t know how to fucking shut up. 

Gavin couldn’t help but steal glances at Nines. Outside the club, Nines had reverted back to his usual demeanor. His back not quite ramrod straight, but definitely a far cry from Gavin’s slouch, and even without the LED, Gavin thought, there was no mistaking what he was. His perfection gave him away if not the way Nines was carrying himself. 

Gavin had to consciously fix his gaze to the window and away from Nines, but it strayed back again. 

“So,” Gavin started after a beat. “You staying with Hank and his boy-toy?”

This was also something new between them, asking each other innocuous questions about themselves. It had started when Nines had brought up Gavin’s cats after apparently analyzing the cat hair on his clothes. Liking cats went a long way to get into his good book. 

“No. I’m staying at the DPD Central Precinct.”

“What?” Gavin said, surprised. He had seen Nines sticking with the pair more often than not before his move to the terminal across from Gavin and he had just... assumed. “They are paying you. Androids are eligible for a lease now. Am I wrong?”

“You are correct. But it’s more convenient for me to stay at the precinct. The android housing committee offered me a place but staying at the DPD cut on commuting time and I have everything I need there.”

Gavin tried to picture Nines standing in one of the charging pods where they used to park androids on stand by. The charging pods were empty these days more often than not with most androids employed by the DPD choosing independence and those who still worked at the DPD opted to use their own at home. 

It painted a lonely picture. 

“Jesus Christ. You can’t live like that.”

There was a minuscule change in Nines’ expression, a tiny furrow of his brows, but most telling of all was the brief cycle of yellow at his temple. “You are falsely equating an android’s needs with a human’s, Detective. I live the way I want.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Life-work balance, Tin Can. Look it up,” Gavin said, perhaps a tad hypocritically. He was a thirty seven years old detective with nothing to his name but his job, and an apartment, to which he came home to his two cats after an unhealthy amount of working hours. Life-work balance was definitely something he didn’t have. 

Nines’ LED spun yellow again. But he didn't say anything in reply to Gavin. 

Gavin let the silence be. At least for a couple of minutes. He stared out the window, looking past the rivulets of water forming small rivers on the glass, the rain still pattering down on the roof of the car. 

They were nearing the precinct now and the street was leading to familiar buildings. There was a place Gavin knew was still open. It wasn’t his usual haunt, but an idea was forming in Gavin’s mind and he didn’t let go of it, especially with the fresh image of Nines standing alone on one of the charging pods in the deserted bullpen still in his mind. 

He reached out to adjust the car’s GPS, changing their direction to a place that opened twenty hours a day. They’d taken precaution to prevent being tailed and this far out from Paradise and the gang’s territory, Gavin doubted there would be any risk. 

“Detective? What are you doing?” Nines asked from where he sat. 

“I’m teaching you how to live. I’m paying. Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.”

  
\---  
  


The place he took Nines to was a gastropub that opened from seven am to four am in the morning. Despite the hour and weather, there were a few clienteles occupying the tables inside. The decor called to mind a rustic cabin with modern touches here and there. It was dominated by wood with elegant upholstery and a bar made of cast concrete. 

He steered Nines to sit at one of the tables near the back of the place, for no particular reason other than Gavin preferring to have a good vantage point. Technically, they were still on the clock until they checked in the borrowed car back to DPD, but he wouldn’t be here if he really thought it would put the mission into jeopardy. Besides, he had a feeling when it came down to it, Nines would stop him if he thought this was stupid. 

“Have you ever tried one of these?” Gavin gestured to the menu, opened on a page listing an assortment of pricey Thirium laced beverages that required special permit to sell. 

“I haven’t,” Nines said. His LED, for the most part was blue, but Gavin did catch the yellow blips when he scanned the menu for the first time. 

“Figures,” Gavin said. He hadn’t really kept track of which places had started to cater to androids. He hadn’t had a reason to. But he had heard about this place when Chris had been shooting the shit with Tina and Stacy, the android receptionist that held the fort down for them at the front of the precinct everyday, even before the revolution. 

Gavin ordered a beer to go with his burger. He didn’t make a habit of eating at this hour, but tonight would be an exception. Meanwhile, Nines--after a few beats of yellow cycle on his LED--decided to get a strawberry smoothie with Thirium. 

The price for Nines’ drink was something that Gavin would never shell out for a smoothie. He tried not to pay any mind to it. 

“Will that even be safe for you to eat? Can you actually taste it?” Gavin asked after the waitress took their orders.

“The Thirium will be absorbed after the molecules are broken down inside my body. It's a less effective way of replenishing my Thirium level, but it’s not dangerous,” Nines said. “And I have a basic ability to taste salty and sweet things. My palate is not as rich as a human’s.”

“I’m sure there will be an upgrade for you sometime in the future,” Gavin muttered, a little distractedly because the rain was picking up outside and it’s turning into a hale. “There have been a lot of things out focusing on your kind’s life quality improvement.”

Nines tilted his head. 

“Maybe,” he said.

When the food arrived, Gavin had worked up an appetite. The hamburger looked good. Definitely leaning on more gourmet than the usual fare that he’d get at a place near the precinct. He eyed Nines and what he assumed was the android’s first attempt on consuming something other than pure Thirium. “How is it?”

Nines took a sip. His LED was lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Sweet.”

“Good? Bad?”

Nines let his question hang for nearly a full minute while he took another sip from the paper straw. “I’m not sure. Good, probably.”

Gavin huffed. Nines’ face was stoic as always but Gavin didn’t miss the minuscule pull at the end of his mouth. He’d like to think it’s Nines pathetic attempt at smiling. 

“You need more experience to decide,” Gavin said. “Gather enough data for a comparison.”

“Yes.” Nines stirred the smoothie with his straw once and drank from it again. 

For all his ambivalent reaction, he didn’t show a sign of stopping. And it would be so easy to follow Gavin’s statement with an invitation for another outing like this, but that’s a lane that Gavin’s not willing to tread. Once was fine, but twice was the beginning of a pattern. 

For a moment, they focused on their respective food in silence, filled only by the noises of activity in the pub and the heavy rain outside. They’re going to get drench getting back into the car if the rain didn’t let up by the time they’re done. 

“Connor cooks for Lieutenant Anderson sometimes,” Nines said after a while. “He said it’s a ‘hobby’”

The way Nines said hobby like he encased the word in air quotes made Gavin snorted into his food. The mental image of Hank playing house with an android was a ridiculous one. “Getting a hobby is one way to enjoy life.”

Nines’ LED flashed yellow. He looked up from his smoothie to Gavin. “What is yours?”

“Fuck knows.” Gavin shrugged. “I sleep when I’m home.”

Nines’ gaze stayed with him, looking at Gavin like he wanted to say something and not sure of Gavin’s reaction to it. Gavin pretended he didn’t notice. There was a part of him that was reluctant to let Nines know how pathetic his life was. How sometimes he’d let the TV run as background noise just to have something in his apartment that made noise other than his cats. How he’d have a night out when he was sick of it all and let a stranger fuck him in their bed just to feel less lonely. 

“You should take a page from Connor,” Gavin said. “Find a hobby and maybe then, you’d see a point in having a place of your own.”

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“I don’t know. Knitting? I’m sure your brother would have a few suggestions for you.”

And that was definitely a frown on Nines’ face. “Connor is not my brother.”

“Isn’t he?”

“We have the same base operating system. But I am not a RK800 series android.”

Gavin put his chin on his hand, his mouth quirking up at one side. “Bet you he think otherwise?”

“No.”

Gavin scoffed. “Sure.”

“He was my guide when I deviated back in December. He had found a home with Lieutenant Anderson and in all purposes, superior to me when it came to social interactions with humans.”

“If by found a home, you mean Hank tapping that, then yeah.”

Nines gave him that  _ look  _ again. Something Gavin still didn’t know how to interpret. His LED was solid blue, giving nothing away. “You had a strange reaction back in March, the first night we went to Paradise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your heart-rate picked up when you spoke with the lieutenant over the communication line.”

Gavin definitely knew what event Nines was referring to. He hadn’t been the only one who had deduced what Hank and Connor had been doing in that fucking car. Fuck. Gavin should have filed a complaint that time. 

He kept quiet over Nines’ statement, but that didn’t deter Nines from continuing. 

“Your baseline when interacting with Lieutenant Anderson differs from others. Was your reaction that night was because you and Hank had—”

“Jesus  _ fuck _ , Nines,” Gavin interrupted, because if the continuation of that sentence was ‘fucked’ then Gavin would break something. “Shut the fuck up.”

Nines didn’t finish his sentence. Thank fuck. 

The android didn’t have enough tact to not bring up this conversation. He was correct in saying his social module was subpar to Connor’s. But he would also be correct in his assumption of Gavin and Hank’s past if the continuation of that sentence was what Gavin had surmised. 

They had fucked. It had been nothing but a means to an end. They had used each other. Gavin to get off and Hank to find an outlet for whatever issue he had had when he and his ex-wife had been divorcing. 

“I apologize,” Nines said. 

Gavin sighed. “Just finish your smoothie. You’re right. You need to learn about social interaction from Connor.”

Nines’ brows knitted together. He was definitely not happy being compared to Connor. 

  
\---  
  


The din of daytime activities in the bullpen was drowned by the music coming out from Gavin’s earbuds. He had a minor headache that promised to be something much worse later on and reducing outside noise with his earphones did a lot to give him relief. 

Last night had been eventful. He was called to work a suicide case, and those were always his least favorite, and the scene he had visited last night had not been pretty. 

He had self medicated with the bottle of gin he’d saved for rainy days and climbed on his bed half-drunk. 

Morning had arrived too fast. 

Nines was a fixture at his terminal all morning. Gavin truly didn’t notice when the android got up and left, too absorbed in nursing his headache and trying to get his report at least comprehensible to the poor sod who might need to read it in the future for reference. When Nines placed a coffee on his table, Gavin nearly toppled it from sheer surprise. 

He looked up to find Nines frowning down at him. 

“What is this?” Gavin yanked one of his earbuds off, still baffled, even though it was pretty obvious. Nines had no use for coffee, nor could he drink it. 

“It wasn’t my intention to startle you,” Nines said. “You may feel better after drinking it.”

Gavin blinked and after a pregnant pause, he said, “Uh, alright. Thanks?”

He might or might not see Nines’ minuscule smile at his response. Gavin pleaded the fifth on that one. He resolutely turned his attention back to his terminal, putting in his earbud again, the sound inside the bullpen abruptly cut off by the noise cancelling function.

Nines went back to his own terminal like there wasn’t anything amiss. He knew, of course, to Gavin’s resignation, that the place he’s working at was a minefield of gossip. No doubt there were many pairs of eyes witnessing the scene. 

Still, it didn’t stop Gavin from taking a sip of the coffee. It was the perfect temperature, with just the right amount of cream and no sugar. Gavin didn’t want to think too much about how Nines knew his preference. Nonetheless, the smell and the taste of the coffee made him feel better immediately. 

He stole a furtive glance Nines’ way. The android didn’t look any different. His handsome face still sported the same resting bitch face while he worked. Like he hadn’t just brought a coffee for Gavin. Granted, it was the crap coffee from the break room. Yet, Gavin couldn’t remember the last time anyone did this for him. Tina? On his birthday last year? 

Gavin had to yank himself out of feeling grateful. A dog was given scraps, once. Didn’t mean he’d get it again. 

Just as he put the coffee back after yet another sip, his phone chimed in with a notification for a text message. 

Bitch queen 08.19: Lunch at Benny’s?

It was Tina. Gavin suppressed a groan. There was no way that Tina hadn’t just witnessed what had occurred. He sat up straighter and stuck his head to the side of the glass divider that separated the work area from the corridor, and saw Tina was hanging out at one of the shared terminals by the wall, the ones for the patrol officers. 

She immediately caught his gaze. Gavin rolled his eyes at her. But she just gave him a smile that promised she’d just dragged him out if he said no anyway. 

Gavin scowled. He returned to his desk and didn’t reply to Tina’s text. 

One hour later, he was at Benny’s with Tina, a popular lunch time venue for cops. But not... as popular as that one place just a few buildings down from the precinct, and thus while still not a good place to talk, it was a better choice. 

Gavin still didn’t want to talk about it with Tina. Yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to opt out. 

So at 12.13 pm, Gavin cut into the fluffy and thick pancake, drizzled generously with maple syrup. It was a delay tactic. But having his mouth full didn’t deter Tina. 

“So, what’s up with you guys?” Tina propped her chin on one hand. Her own food was forgotten for now in favor of interrogating Gavin. 

“What do you mean?” Gavin said while still chewing. 

Tina wasn’t put off at all. Shame. 

She gave him a look that told him he’s full of shit. “Gav, you know perfectly what I mean.” 

“Ugh.” Gavin swallowed his food and put down the fork and knife. He knew a losing fight when he was in one. And ten years of friendship gave Tina the kind of power other people rarely had on Gavin. He scowled. “Nothing.”

Tina poked his cheek. It was such an annoyance and Gavin tried to bite off her index finger. 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Tina sing-songed. “Didn’t know you two were that friendly.”

Gavin gave up. “Work with a guy for a full month. Just the two of you in enemy territory and you get to know the guy.”

“Mmmm? Seems like it’s more than that.”

“There isn’t anything, Tina. Get your mind off the gutter,” Gavin hissed. 

Tina raised one eyebrow. “You didn’t bite his head off when he brought you coffee. Remember Harrison?”

“That’s because Harrison was a suck up.”

“What makes Nines different?”

“He’s just...” Gavin paused and drummed his fingers on the table. “He’s only trying to be kind. I had a headache. He knew because he could scan people and shit.”

“That was nice of him, Gav. And so?”

“What?” Gavin scowled again. 

“Don’t give me that face. So what’s going on between you two?”

Gavin wanted to face-plant on the table. Sometimes, Tina was like a dog with a bone. But he knew it came from a place of care. She was in his corner and he was in hers. Gavin let the question hang for a few moments. Then, he said, “I guess we’re sort of friends.”

_ And I’ve kissed him _ , but there’s no way he was going to tell Tina that. 

“Is he a friend you want to bone?” 

“Jesus christ,  _ Tina _ .”

Tina affected an innocent look, her eyes wide. “Am I wrong?”

Gavin ran a hand over his face. “Look,” he said. “He is good looking. But it’s not like that.”

Tina shrugged. “He’s a good guy, Gav. I saw him freaking helping a grandma cross the street the other day.”

Gavin knew, was the problem. Beneath that resting bitch face exterior or whatever, Nines was someone worth knowing. And Gavin... wasn’t sure he could be with someone like that. 

“He’s an android.”

“You haven’t said a single bad thing about androids other than Connor since the revolution.”

Gavin sighed, resigned. 

“Come on,” Tina continued. “You deserve good things in your life.”

Gavin didn’t answer her immediately. He looked down at his now cooling food, recalling how Nines had been in Paradise. The way Gavin had slowly adjusted to his constant presence at Gavin’s side, his warmth. And then, he recalled the tiny smile when Gavin had said thanks to Nines earlier that day. 

“Maybe,” Gavin said. 

Tina thinned her lips, but she didn’t push him anymore. It’s probably already more than she had hoped to get out of him. 

  
\---  
  


At Paradise, the next day, things went downhill fast. 

It began like any other day they had been there. Gavin linked his hand with Nines to pull him to the second floor the moment they were inside. 

Nines ordered a cocktail for Gavin. Something he had never tried before, bright yellow with an umbrella on top. It tasted like pineapple mixed with cough syrup, and Gavin gave it up with a grimace after the first sip while telling Nines off. Nines, of course, responded with his usual sharp comeback. 

He only detected something amiss when Browning approached them, dragging a guy with him. A coterie of men followed behind them. 

Browning shoved the guy, so he sprawled on the ground close to Gavin’s feet, nearly crashing against the low table. Alarmed, Gavin schooled his face. The guy on the floor had been beaten up. Bruises and dried blood coated his skin. And that face was definitely someone Gavin recognized. 

Benjamin Henson was someone they had put in the gang for a long term. His cover apparently was blown. 

“What’s this?” Gavin said coolly. 

Beside him, Nines didn’t react and from Gavin’s periphery vision, he could make out Nines’ LED had stayed blue throughout, even though there wasn’t a chance he didn’t recognize Henson. 

Browning took a seat across from them, legs spread wide in a show of dominance. “A gift. He didn’t talk, but we found out anyway.”

Gavin didn’t even have the time to say anything in reply. Browning waved his hand like they were in a shitty action movie and the men that surrounded them closed in. 

It spoke of something that they would try this where everyone could see. But Gavin should have wondered when he had noted the crowd had been thinner than usual on the second floor the moment they had entered the lounge. All of the patrons were probably their people and there was a high chance they wouldn’t bat an eye, even though Gavin and Nines were killed right at that moment. 

“Too bad. The boss had high hopes in you,” Browning said. 

It was such a fucking disaster. Gavin would fret about not making that promotion from this one fuck-up, but he had more pressing worry, like how to get out of this alive. 

“You talk big,” Gavin said. “But I haven’t even seen your boss yet. Is he that much of a coward?”

“And now you won’t be able to.” As Browning said that, his men pointed their guns at Gavin. 

“Why would you insult them, Marc?” Nines said, sounding nonplussed. “It’s as if you do not want to get out of here alive.”

“Shut up, Rich. Can you take them?” Gavin asked, knowing the answers would be yes. He’d seen the footage of Connor fighting against six armed men and turning them into a joke. He would bet a pretty penny on Nines who came with the same specs as Connor.. 

As if in answer to Gavin’s question, Nines kicked the tables to the sound of shots firing off. Bullets ricochet around them as he pushed Gavin to the ground. 

“I’ve notified our back-ups. ETA five minutes. Try to stay alive until then, Detective,” Nines said. 

Gavin ducked between the couch and the table Nines had turned to the side like a shield. He’d taken his own gun out, safety off and fired at the nearest assailant. It’s a good thing that Nines presented as a bigger target right then. They forgot about puny humans like him. 

From the screams, he knew that Nines was wiping the floor with them, but Gavin didn’t have the time to check. He kept his eyes on Henson, who was still sprawled on the ground. Gavin kept his gun on hand and slowly crawled over to Henson. The man was still alive and to keep it that way, he needed to be out of the line of fire. 

He pulled at Henson’s arm, dragging him into the safety of the meagre cover they had. 

That was when Gavin saw a pair of boots in his vision. Yet, even before Gavin could react, the person was shot by Nines. The body dropped to the ground beside Gavin, forehead bleeding from a clean wound of a bullet. 

Gavin cursed internally and finally got Henson to safety. 

It was over as fast as it started. Eight men versus one RK900. 

Gavin felt pretty fucking grateful that this killing machine had decided to join their side instead of the other. The other part of him, the part that he didn’t exactly want to listen to, found it hot. 

He definitely had a  _ problem _ . 

“Where is Browning?” Gavin asked as the commotion died down. 

Hank, Connor and a few officers who probably patrolled nearby stormed the place five minutes on the dot. They were arresting the few who still lingered in the club lounge. The rest had fled the moment the back-up team arrived. 

Nines stood among the rubble he caused. Blue Thirium leaked from the side of his cheek where a bullet grazed his skin, his hair disheveled and falling over his eyes. But other than that, he looked whole and hale. 

“He most likely made off when my sensors were busy,” Nines said. His mouth was a little downturned, as if he was disappointed in this fact. 

“Jesus. We’ll get him, don't worry ‘bout it.”

“I’m reconstructing his path,” Nines continued as if Gavin had said nothing. He took a step forward and tilted his head, probably processing whatever it was that Gavin couldn’t see. 

“He couldn't be far,” Gavin said. 

It was a famous last word. Browning didn’t make off, and hearing Nines’ words probably scared him out of his hiding place. He was hiding among the graveyard of couches in the club and Gavin it was by chance that saw the muzzle of his gun peeking out from behind one of them before Nines, just in time for his brain to get him moving. 

He stepped in front of Nines’ unprotected back. 

Getting shot was still as painful as he remembered. 

Christ. So Nines wasn’t perfect after all.

The sound of the police screaming and Nines’ hands on him as Gavin fell over and lost consciousness from the shock was the last thing he could tell. 

—

Waking up to the sound of a heart monitor was familiar to Gavin. The smell of a hospital was unmistakable, as was the loopy light-headedness that told him he was high on painkiller. 

Gavin thought he saw a figure standing over his bed, but he was too sleepy to open his eyes for long and soon succumbed to sleep again. When he woke up again for the second time, it was morning. Someone had opened the window curtain and let in the morning sunlight. There was nobody in his room. 

It was quiet in that false lull that morning sometimes brought in. The pain in his side and the nausea probably meant that he was definitely still alive. Something that was further proven when a nurse came into his room to fuss over him. 

And then, after she left, his room was empty once again. Nobody had come to see him all morning. He knew Tina would at some point, but that’s it. His brother would send him a text asking if he’s still alive when the news reached the asshole’s ears. He never did bother to reply and wouldn’t start now. 

Gavin went back to sleep convincing himself this time it would be more of the same. So when he woke up again and found instead of Tina, it was someone else standing by his bedside, he thought he was still dreaming. Because those blue eyes had definitely appeared in a few. 

“Detective?”

Gavin needed a full minute to gather his wools and decide that yes, Nines was visiting him and it wasn’t a dream. 

“Why’re you here?” Gavin slurred out. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to try to get up. The painkiller the nurse had given him in the morning must have worn off, because the pain was coming back. He didn’t let it show in his face though.

Yet, casually, Nines reached out to press the caller button that the hospital staff had put near Gavin’s hand. “Checking whether you’re still alive.”

“I am. Now you can go back.”

RK900’s smile had an edge to it. “What you did was stupid, Detective.” 

Gavin wouldn’t lie. That one hurt. So far Nines had been pretty blunt with him, sometimes to the point of disregard to social convention. But stepping in front of a bullet for an android and only for said android to say that it was stupid and probably unnecessary, which was probably true, was smarting. 

“A ‘thank you’ would do,” Gavin said. 

He’d said more. Something cutting at the edge of his tongue, but they were interrupted by the nurse that came in knocking. She was armed with more medication and another dose of painkiller she administered through Gavin’s IV. She tutted at Gavin and promised to come back later with late lunch. 

Through all that, Gavin sneaked a glance to Nines and noticed that he was watching like a hawk. 

“What?” Gavin frowned. “This must seem ridiculous to you, huh? Human bodies are such fragile things.”

Nines titled his head. “I didn’t say that.”

Gavin shut his mouth. For a few beats, he let Nines stare at him, studying him with that piercing glance like he was a particularly interesting insect pinned to a board for display. 

“Sit. You can do that at least, even if you can't stop staring at me like a freak, can you?” Gavin said grumpily. 

The painkiller, thankfully, was starting to take effect. The pulsing pain in his torso was fading and getting reduced to background priority. Nines, at his side, heeded him and pulled out the chair. He sat down on it prim and proper, with his back straight. 

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” Gavin said. The tone was still grumpy but it was something akin to an olive branch from him, since from the looks of it Nines didn’t visit him just to mock him or to remind him of his superiority. 

Jesus fuck. But Gavin still had issues with his resting bitch face after all. 

Nines’ LED flashed yellow. It didn’t last long, but Gavin couldn’t have mistaken it. Seems like, he wasn’t the only one puzzling things out. 

After what seemed like a small eternity, Nines said, “Thank you. That bullet was for me and I wouldn’t have been able to dodge it in time.”

In the face of those words and under Nines’ stare, Gavin now felt strangely embarrassed. He averted his eyes to look out the window. “I would do it for anyone.”

“Yet,” Nines continued. “I still think it was a stupid move. Bullets can’t hurt me. Even if they manage to pierce my armored casing, it would not do much damage.” 

Gavin whipped his head back. “You ungratefu—”

He cut himself off upon discovering Nines was crooking a smile. It wasn’t sarcastic or mocking. 

“Please don’t do that again,” Nines said with finality. 

Gavin clenched his fist around the sheets. Nines was still smiling. He was—

—happy?

“I’m not going to promise you anything.” Gavin lied after all. He wouldn’t do it for anyone. Getting shot fucking hurt. He did it because… well, because his body told him to move first and foremost, and because instinctively his mind had associated Nines as someone he’d rather not see hurt. 

“So stubborn.”

The door opened again right at the tail of Nines’ words. The nurse came back with a tray of food. She pulled out the table and settled the tray in front of Gavin with an instruction to finish as much as he could. 

The food was something light and brothy. He ignored it in favor of resuming his conversation with Nines, but Nines shook his head. 

“Eat,” he said. “Your human body needs nutrition.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. He didn’t argue though and picked the spoon to start eating. Though, after only finishing it halfway, Gavin felt his nausea coming back and felt it prudent to stop. Nines leaned forward to help him store the table again and put the food tray at the side table. 

Then, back to square one of just him and Nines, Gavin lost the things he wanted to say to Nines before this. Instead, he said, “Isn’t it time for you to go? Do you have anything else you want to say to me?”

“Yes,” Nines answered. “That time…”

Gavin furrowed his brows. Nines stopped speaking just after uttering those few words, seemingly hesitating. “What?” Gavin prompted. 

“That time… when you said you wanted to teach me. Can you do that again?”

Gavin’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out, and when it did, it was after full thirty seconds, “That— the kiss?”

Nines didn’t break eye contact with him. If anything, he seemed to be more intent. “Correct.”

Gavin snorted. He wanted to laugh in a hysteric. What the hell was happening right now? He’d repeated that one moment in his mind over and over again. Had even dreamt of it. But in all his imaginings, he wouldn’t have thought Nines would ask for a repeat performance. 

Nines face shuttered. It was a miniscule change, something Gavin wouldn’t have noticed before all those hours spent with Nines in close proximity. “It’s okay. Nevermind.”

“Wait. Wait,” Gavin hastily said. “I wasn’t saying no?”

Nines looked up again. It was like one second he was a kicked puppy and now, just because of Gavin’s response, he perked up again. It was cute. Nines was cute…. Gavin thought a killer robot was cute. The sky was probably going down on them all in a minute. 

Yet, Gavin said, “Come here.”

He extended a hand, palm up to Nines. 

It took a second before Nines lifted his own hand and grasped Gavin’s gently, enveloping them with warm fingers. Gavin pulled just to get Nines to move and he did. He got up from the seat and leaned over Gavin, his free hand held out to prop himself on Gavin’s bed. 

Then, Gavin released him and grabbed the side of Nines’ head. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve improved?”

Nines crooked a tiny smile. His LED was a burning yellow, but there was no hesitation when he leaned in and showed Gavin just that. 


End file.
